Creepypasta
by Allie Salvatore
Summary: Short horror stories inspired by creepypastas. They may be read as standalone. Mostly Klaine, but other characters eventually.
1. Testing

**Based on:** creepypasta dot com /this-is-just-a-test/

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**Testing**

Kurt had fallen asleep watching tv. That is the only explanation to why his tv was on at 3:33 am. He, of course, does not remember watching it until late and then falling asleep but he supposes this is because he was tired.

The tv is on, but nothing was playing on it. Only static. White bold letters flash across the screen over a black stripe. He reads them as he watches the static.

_THIS IS JUST A TEST - SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE - THIS IS JUST A TEST - SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE - THIS IS JUST A TEST_

Yawning, he looks around searching for the remote. As he can't find it while lying down, he decides to sit up. He rubs his eyes and, as he sits, something on the screen catches his attention. The message displayed is different this time.

_THIS IS JUST A TEST - SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE - THIS IS JUST A TEST - YOU ARE BEING WATCHED - THIS IS JUST A TEST..._


	2. Wake Up

**Based on:** creepypasta dot wikia dot com /wiki/Wake_Up

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**Wake Up**

Blaine thinks he was kinda lucky that he and his date got helped before the guys could actually do anything to them. It was a very lucky coincidence indeed that the police seemed to come in the exact moment they were about to...

No. He shouldn't think about it. Sheer luck for whatever reason wasn't something he wanted to argue with, specially because he was sure that he would be killed or at least put into a coma if the basebal bat had actually got in contact with his body. They were aiming for the head, there's no way he'd get out of it unharmed.

It all started to get weird when he received that text. It was simple, from an unknown number and it shouldn't have scared him as much as it had. Two simple, harmless words. Wake up.

It started to annoy him, those two words. A constant thought in the back of his mind. Wake up, wake up, wake up. A rhythm, like a mantra his subconcious told him every day. Wake up. Wake up, wake up. He'd see those words everwhere: hear them on random dialogues while he was on the supermarket or read them on his physics book, always there, always bugging him. Wake up wake up wake up...

"Why won't you just wake up?" someone asked, and Blaine looked around. No one was there. But that voice... that female, desperate voice, had sounded so familiar as if... as if he knew the woman who had spoken... The problem is that no woman had spoken at all. There was no woman there. He was all alone.

Still, he could feel them. He could hear the phone ringing in the distance, hushed voices talking, the loud beeping of the machine... He could smell the too clean scent of the sanitizer and some sort of rubber, like doctor's gloves. It all felt white and clean like... well, like a hospital._  
_

It didn't bother him. He was used to this dream about the hospital.

What bother him was the voice. The same female voice pleading over and over again, it didn't matter whether he was awake or asleep. The same desperate, tired voice, crying incessantly. Like a mother, waiting by her son's hospital bed, trying to snap him out of a coma simply by wishing that he'd just wake up.

_Wake up, wake up, wake up!_


	3. Don't Go Downstairs

**Based on: **creepypasta dot wikia dot com /wiki/In_the_Kitchen

I'd like to ask a little bit of feedback here, please! I know you read the stories, but what do you think about them? And like, suggestions?

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**Don't Go Downstairs**

They had just moved on into their new house and the boxes were _everywhere_. Forming a pile in the corner of their bedroom, precarily positioned one over the other on the kitchen, scattered around the house, only waiting for them to tidy it up. The furniture was already set into place, but they still had to unpack most of the small objects: books, photographs, decorative little pieces that both of them liked to keep a collection of, so they took the weekend to organise most of things, each doing something in a part of the house.

Kurt was somewhere taking things out of the boxes while Blaine was in the bedroom organising his books. He had insisted on helping Kurt more but, knowing his boyfriend, the man probably wanted to do things by himself and make them as perfect as possible. As he laid the last book on the shelf, Kurt's voice called from somewhere in the lower floor.

"Blaine, sweetie, can you come give me a hand, please?"

Smiling a little, he walked out of the room and was ready to climb down the stairs when Kurt's voice, from somewhere behind him, said "Don't go downstairs, I heard it too."

He turned around to see his boyfriend, eyes wide with fear. Blaine froze on his spot as Kurt's voice came, once again, from downstairs.

"Blaine, c'mon I need your help here!"

He stood there, in a terrified silence, not knowing what to do.


End file.
